She's a Lady
by Xxajanae97xX
Summary: There's only one thing Sam hates more than dressing up and being a pleasant member of society: boyfriend's mothers who think she can't do so. Two-Shot, Seddie.


**A/N: This was a one shot I thought up while I was in class one day, but I never had the time to upload it until now. Actually, the word count got really long so i decided to divide it up into two chapters, so like a two-shot, really. I got inspiration by listening to She's a Lady by Forever the Sickest Kids. I thought it was such a Seddie song. For beginning reference, Sam and Freddie are together in this story and already dating and whatnot. So, I hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: .iCarly own not do I  
**

* * *

Freddie looked begrudgingly at her mother as she slipped on her purse. It was her date night and she was late meeting _him_ again.

"Aw, mom, why can't you just ask one of your girlfriends to go or something?"

"Because, sweetie," she sang with care, "all my girlfriends are bringing their families with them. And you are my most important family so," and she switched to a hard demanding tone, "you're going."

He crossed over the counter. "But I had plans tomorrow. My butt was so looking forward to sitting on that couch."

"Well your butt's just gonna have to reschedule. Besides, Grant is really looking forward to spending time with you."

"No offense mom, but I never even met the guy, so I'm not exactly looking forward to spending _time_ with him."

"You know, this is exactly what that article in Aggressive Parenting Monthly was talking about. Children are never able to easily adjust to their parents dating again. It brings up insecurities, it creates boundaries—"

"You're being crazy mom. I'm not one of those articles in one of your magazines. I'm cool with you dating; I'm just not cool with you doing it with some complete stranger I barely know."

At least that statement made sense in Freddie's mind.

Mrs. Benson was about to respond when she heard the ringing from her phone. "Oh, we're just going to have to finish this later, honey," she rushed out as she read the text she received. "Grant's waiting for me in the parking lot." She grabbed her coat and opened the door when she caught Sam on the opposite side in mid-knock.

"Oh hello Samantha can't talk gotta run please don't abuse my son while I'm gone," she said all in one breath and rushed past her down the hall.

Sam raised her brow as she looked back and forth between the door and Freddie. "Uh, what's with your mom?"

He scowled as he walked in the living room and sunk down on his couch. "Ugh, she's running off into the sunset with that _Grant_ guy."

"Oh riiight, her new main squeeze," and she made the squeezing gestures with her hands as she laughed.

"Not funny Sam," he yelled back, but she only smiled more and strolled over to his side.

"Come on, Fredward, isn't it about time for your mom to scan the buffet of hot single men over forty? It's been what—ten years since your dad died?"

He felt her ruffle the top of his head and grabbed onto her hand as she sat down. "I don't care about that. It's just that ever since she started dating that doctor she's been all—"

"Whoa, wait—" she interrupted. "Isn't it illegal or something for doctors to date their nurses?"

"No, Sam, it's not illegal, it's just…really creepy. Ugh, everything about this is creepy!" and he banged his head back against the armrest and groaned.

"Well, it's not like you have to meet this guy if you don't wanna. There's about ten of my mom's boyfriends who I've never met."

"But tomorrow my mom's making me. There's this hospital banquet thing and she wants me to tag along with her and _Grant_."

"That's tough chizz. What's gonna happen to our date on the couch tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Freddie sighed. "Maybe…" but his voice trailed off as a proverbial light bulb flashed over his head. He inherited Sam's devilish grin and looked her up and down. Sam leaned back in caution.

"Maybe what, Benson?"

"Maybeeee you can come with us."

She paused for a second, shrugged, and hopped off the couch. "Well, this was fun. I wonder if my mom's cookin ham tonight—"

"No you don't!" and he tugged her arm back down for her to plunge back onto the couch. "Just think about it: I'll bring you as my date, it'll still be lame and boring, and we'll probably have to sit through hours of people making toasts and giving speeches."

She narrowed her stare. "You're not selling this very well, Freddie."

"But we'll be _together_ during this whole lame and boring process so it wouldn't matter."

She feigned excitement. "Okay, well how about this: I stay and you go! That way only one of us will have to suffer—that one being you, hope you caught that."

He sucked his teeth. "Oh, come on, Sam, I want you to come."

"Why don't you go ask Carly? She definitely has the daffodility for this kind of thing."

"There's a simple answer to that: Carly's not my girlfriend. You are."

She scoffed as she gave him a look from the corner of her eye. "Please, Freddie. Nothing about me being your girlfriend is _simple_."

He kept his determination and scooped her legs up from the coffee table onto his lap. He urged on by pressing his palms over her ankles. "I know that. But I also know that you lo—"

"Freddie don't…"

"Looo…"

"I'm warning you…"

"_Looooo…_" and she leaned forward to mesh his lips shut with her fingers, but he only grabbed her wrists back to force them off. He kept mumbling the same syllable over and over until he shifted his weight and got her hands to finally move. "Love me!" He slipped out with a smile.

She stared him down and flared her nostrils. She hated when he would ever use that cursed four letter word to get his way. "You know I hate it when you use that word against me, Benson."

"And I know you hate it because you know it's true, Puckett."

"So?"

"So are you coming?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No you do not."

"Fine then, what time are you picking me up?"

"I'll be at your house at eight."

"Make it eight thirty and bring a bag of bacon."

"Deal."

"Good."

"Hate you."

"Love you, too," he mocked just to get her fuming again. She then began to kick her feet against his chest and stick out her tongue in a five year-old manner.

* * *

Sam stood in front of her mother's mirror and grimaced. It was the night of the hospital banquet and Freddie was supposed to pick her up in any minute. She told Freddie not to expect anything extravagant, but for some reason she found herself inside a fancy boutique a few hours later purchasing a four hundred dollar gown on her mom's credit card. It was crimson, with a low-cut back and silver and ruby colored pendent in the center. A layer of her hair was pinned up with the rest of the curls laying flat along her back. She felt completely awkward. She tried to adjust the tie around the back of her neck and the long skirt covering her toes but she still didn't like what she saw in the mirror. Nevertheless, it was fancy, it was expensive, and it would be something that would impress Freddie's mother and the other people at that fancy banquet of doctors and surgeons.

The knocks came from the door.

"It's open!" She yelled as she began to walk out her mother's room. But something in her footing felt strange…

_Crap! I forgot the other shoe. Dammit, where'd I put that thing?_

Apparently no one heard her yell because more knocks sounded down the hall. She hopped across the hall to her closet, tripping occasionally along the bottom of her dress. "I said, _doors open_!"

And right as she found her other heel the door swung open and Freddie strode in while adjusting a cufflink. "Sorry, Sam, I couldn't—"

And out of all the times Sam had called Freddie a mindless drooling nub, this time could have actually proven it valid. He stood frozen when he saw Sam, leaning over the kitchen counter, random curls falling over her face, flustered expression, and naked on her left foot. He noticed her blue eyes beaming all of a sudden from the dark mascara, the dark blood-colored dress fitting tightly over her figure, and her peach covered skin glistening from the dim light of the kitchen. His mouth watered as he soaked it all in.

"Wow, you look…"

"Like a Victorian prostitute clown?" she turned her gaze and finally slipped on the other heel.

"Wait what? N-no, Sam, you look…beautiful."

She slipped on her white gloves and grabbed her purse from the chair before walking past him. "Yeah yeah, thanks for the cliché boyfriend compliment, Freddo—"

But he grabbed her arm and forced her back in the doorway. He pulled her closer and ran his hand down from her shoulder to her waist. "I mean it. You look, really _amazing_. But…why?"

"Well, it's a fancy dinner for a bunch of rich people. Isn't this how people are supposed to dress?"

"Well, normal people, yes, but not you. You do know I would've been just fine with you wearing a t-shirt and some converse, right?"

She curved her lips, finally smiling at a complement that fit her. She occupied herself with the button on his tuxedo. "I do, actually, and that's why I keep you around. But," and she let out a deep sigh and slipped on her coat. "This dinner's not about you, it's about your mom and her little lover dude sooo let's get going."

Freddie furrowed his brow in confusion. He wanted to question her over why it was so important to all of a sudden look nice for _his_ mother, but he suppressed the thought down when she yelled his name from down the hall. He shook his head, shut her door, and ran to catch up.

* * *

Sam played around with the frequency on Freddie's radio while they drove in the car.

"Are we there yet?" she whined.

"The theatre's right around the corner—and can you please not change stations every three minutes?"

"If nothing suits me the stations will be changed. That's how it is and always will be."

"So where are we meeting your mom and _Grant_," she was sure to emphasize the name in an overly-seductive tone. "You know that is suuuch a soap opera doctor's name. His last name's probably Alcazar or Dougly or Stone."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Ugh. We're meeting them right at the entrance. And if we're lucky, _Doctor Dougly-Stone_ will get called in to operate some brain trauma or something and we can call this whole night off."

"Whoa, and I thought I was nervous about this whole thing. You're freakin out over here, Freddie."

He raised his brow and glanced at her before turning back to the road. "You? What do you have to be nervous about?"

"Neh…nothin' much."

Sam. It's just my mom and some dude. There's nothing to be nervous about. Promise me it'll just be like me and you goin out to the movies or hanging out with Carly and Spencer. Nothin special, kay?"

"You got it, dude."

He smiled through the windshield. "Good."

They turned the corner and followed the other swarm of cars into the lot of the Cobra Theater. They got out, let the valet park Freddie's car, and he led her through the crowd into the double doors of the theater. It took them a while to scope out his mother, but after hearing a loud "Freddie Beaaaar!" among the voices, he was pretty sure they were near.

"Good evening, _mother_," he greeted with an underlying sourness. He noticed Sam's small chuckle.

"Ohh, Freddie, look how handsome you look," and she grabbed her son to suffocate him in a binding hug. Over her shoulder, Freddie was able to see the tall figure standing behind her. He was tanned, he had glossy black hair and emerald eyes that probably made his mother melt. _How disgusting._

Mrs. Benson let go and finally brought the mystery man closer. "Grant," she beamed, "this is my darling boy, Fredward. And Freddie, _this_ is Grant," and she tucked her head under his chin in an annoying high school sort of way.

"Hello there, Freddie," Grant smiled, "your mom has told me so much about you."

Freddie grimaced. Even his voice was deep and alluring. "Thank you," he managed to say. "Well I am her darling little"—

"Mama's boy," Sam mischievously coughed. She earned a glare from Freddie.

"Ooh, Samantha," Mrs. Benson interrupted, "you look very beautiful this evening," then she turned back to Grant. "This is Samantha, Freddie's little girlfriend."

"Um…little?" she whispered to Freddie.

"Just run with it."

"Hello," she switched back over to Mrs. Benson. "Greetings, good evening, ahoy there, all that jazz," and she smiled and shook the hands of her and her boyfriend. The tall man shifted his jaw in confusion but smiled back anyway.

"Isn't she a colorful character?" she heard Mrs. Benson whisper over to Grant.

"So," started Sam again holding onto Freddie's arm. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Well," Grant began, "I figured we'd start the night off with a nice exuberating opera here in the theater. Then the banquet will be in the ballroom down the hall."

"Oh my, an opera. That does sound exciting!" giggled Mrs. Benson.

"Shall we be off then?"

"We shall." And the older couple linked arms before walking off.

Freddie was about to follow when Sam dug her nails into his forearm.

"_Opera_?"

"It's a short one, I think. Only about sixty minutes."

"Worst future sixty minutes of my life," she scowled.

"Oh, come on," and he pulled her along behind his mother. "We'll endure these sixty minutes toge—"

"Don't try to get cute on me, Benson. There will be payback for not mentioning this."

Freddie sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Of course there will be…"

* * *

As expected, the sixty minutes of the opera dragged on for an effect of two hours. Freddie and Sam fell asleep against each other twice, and the remainder of the time was spent criticizing the entire performance. Well, Freddie tried to pay attention for his mother's sake who sat directly to his right, but Sam made it hard, for when she wasn't whispering to Freddie when the actors sung out of key, she was mimicking in the main actress's high pitched voice on how "suckish" the performance was. Many made Freddie laugh, and even though he would be reprimanded later for his "inappropriate" behavior, he was glad he could share in the inappropriateness with Sam.

The rising of the lights signaled the opera was over and the four rose from their seats. Once into the hall, Sam rushed in front of the other three.

"That was a very pleasant opera," she smiled to Grant and Mrs. Benson. "Now if you excuse me, I have to go pee…really bad." And she bowed before running down the corridor, tripping once on the bottom of her dress. Grant furrowed his brow and looked at Freddie. He just laughed nervously. "She's…such a lady."

* * *

**A/N: I hope that wasn't an awkward way to end it, but the second half of the story will be up as soon as I see some positive responses. I thought it would be hilarious to see Freddie's reaction to his mother dating again, and Sam trying to find her inner "daffodility" for this occasion. Wellll, that's all I got, and if you wanna hear the song there's a link to it and my other songs from stories on my page. Peaace. **

**REVIEW.  
**


End file.
